Death Courier

Starspark on glittersteel, She slips silently through the midnight ether Deaths handmaiden, A bellyful of Ares brood The children of chaos awaiting their call. The klaxon sounds like trumpets of old And the scion springs forth in a frenzy of destruction. Mayhem rules for a time And cries are heard, screaming to know why, Why must we suffer, why must we die? Their mindless appetite sated, they return To the cold, unfeeling womb that spawned them Preparing to seek another foe. Mayhaps one worth their mettle A worthy knight, a gunslinger bold. Only she knows the mission, the grand design That propels them onward to new worlds in decline. The mission is simple and yet so old That some must have known it, but lost what was told So yet what her mission is, she decides to withhold.

Copyright © 2005 Lyle Melford Miller